Remarkable Circumstances
by Crystal Marionette
Summary: When life gets you down, sometimes all you need is a good friend to pick you back up. Danno POV


Hello all. Just another short little one shot that popped into my brain today. I've been diligently working on a sequel to Pupule but my muse keeps abandoning me! Little bugger…hope this will kick it into high gear. Enjoy! Set in 2.23 before the season finale bombshell.

Disclaimer: I do not own, in any part, any of the characters depicted here nor do I own any part of this wonderful show! I just get to play in the sandbox.

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Remarkable Circumstances

What truly makes a good man? Is it the strength of his arms as well as his soul? Perhaps it's the cloth from which he's cut. Often growing up I began thinking maybe it was a man's stature that made him who he was, shaping the person he was to become. Being able to stand tall in the face of detriment, to take a beating and still be on ones feet. I'd see my father, Brooklyn strong and built like an ox, come striding back home after a long day at the station. Beaten, worn out, yet still manage a smile for my mother and us kids. Not because he should have, knowing there were days where he'd seen shit no person ever should. No it was because he wanted to. It was that strength and that character that I always wanted to emulate as a boy and even now as a man. But the question remains, is that what makes a good man?

After I got married, I figured it was taking care of the woman you loved. Be there and support her when she's down. Hell, be a gentleman and open the doors for her, take her out for dinner because I know how much she enjoys dolling herself up for special occasions. But try as I might, not even that was enough to save our marriage. The constant tribulations that seemed like nothing at the time rolled downhill in a force unlike any I had ever faced, growing in number and before I knew it I was faced with a mountain. Like David against Goliath I believed that, with the strength I copied from my father and the basic tools I had at hand, I could beat the monster into submission and win the unwinnable. My life was not like those age old tales and where David succeeded, my fight was for naught and the earth crumbled beneath my feet to leave me wallowing in darkness.

When Grace was born, I changed my tune once again. The mountain had yet to be and life was the shining definition of perfect. Woman I loved had become plural and I knew, as soon as her big brown eyes opened for the first time and looked straight at me that I would do anything in this world to protect her. As she grew up that love simply became stronger until I felt as though I would drown in it. She became my world, the air that I breathed and the light that my existence hadn't witnessed since my wedding day. Maybe that's how I missed it, too busy trying to work hard to make the world a safer place for Grace and her mother, getting in that overtime to put food on the table and an extra gift or two under the Christmas tree. Had I really been so blind to the fact that I was doing more harm than good? There was no doubt in my mind as the request for divorce was a slap in the face I never saw coming. There was still Grace though, still a light at the end of the tunnel in the aftermath of that crumbling relationship. I had to be strong for her and make her believe that, even though her Danno wouldn't be living with them anymore that everything would be ok. I'd throw myself into the fires of Hell itself if I had to, because that's what fathers did. That's what good men did for their children. I rose from the darkness of the divorce, fought my way back to the surface so Grace couldn't see my pain, only to be thrust back down upon hearing but a single word: Hawaii.

As a kid, I was pretty good in school. I got good grades to make Ma and Pop proud, so I wasn't dumb. I knew what _Hawaii_ meant for me and my daughter. How could she do this to us? To drag us half a world apart and not think there would be circumstances? She _knew_ what a cops salary was like, had lived with it for years. I'd never be able to visit on a regular basis, yearly if I was damn lucky and somehow the courts were ok with allowing her to do this as the islands were United States soil. It shattered my very being but still I tried to be strong, for my daughter's sake. Hawai'i…I instantly formed a searing hatred for the name, for the place. Just as Berliner's had hated the Wall, it had become my barrier; separating me from my loved ones and transforming my life into one of misery and a future of unknowns. There was only one thing that I could do to ensure I saw my daughter grow up, to be there for her during the hard times and to have a say in how she was raised. No idiot with an eight digit bank account was going to have a say in what happened with his little girl where I couldn't. After the devastation of the long goodbyes and the tears at the airport I got to work. It took nearly a year of scrounging like a dog, begging for OT and weekend shifts until I was able to afford to move. I sold the house, which at the time didn't fetch too much in the crap economy we were facing, packed only the most essential of items and moved…to _Hawaii._ My parents and sibling were sad to see me go, but they knew I would have followed my little girl to the ends of the earth if I had to. They called me a good man, that I was doing the right thing, and I believed them.

To say Rachael was shocked about my sudden reappearance into their lives would be an understatement but I didn't care. Barely enough cash in my account to rent some crap apartment and maybe get a bite to eat, the look of delight on my child's face was worth everything. I can still picture it now, the yellow of her dress, the scent of lavender in her hair as she threw herself into my arms with a squeal of joy so loud I thought my ears would bleed. I can still feel the warmth of her tears on my shoulder like it's happening right now and in that moment I had everything I'd ever want. Life was good again, life seemed like it was starting to make sense once more, even if I had to live in the one place I hated more than anything. For my daughter I would suck it up and deal because we were together once more.

And life did make sense again, until six months down the road and I was thrust into the life of one Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett and life became a whirlwind of chaos. The man is seriously the most clinically insane individual I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I'm also certain he had an undiagnosed mental health condition due to his fascination with explosives and gun fights. I hated him at first, just as I'd hated the islands. He was a bane in my existence, running around like a tornado and leaving nothing in his wake but destruction. It had become hard enough to account for my own life but with him I also had to watch his back as he hung suspects from rooftops and blew up pawn shops. After a while though, like when I got hitched and when Grace took her first breath, my meaning of what it meant to be a good man started to change yet again. The more I got to know Steve the more I saw just how much he was hurting. The walls he had built over the many years of his life started to show and I began to pick away at them. He was more than just the crazed, go-his-own-way, screw-police-procedure kind of guy. He was a son who'd been beaten down by the loss of his father and mother. He was a brother who just never got the chance to truly connect with his sister before they were separated. He was a soldier who had seen way too many of his comrades blown apart or shot. He was a partner who really did care about my safety even if he instigated way too many gunfights for my liking. He became a friend and confidant that I could rant away to and, regardless of the fact that most of them were aimed point blank at his face, he listens and respects my feelings. I began thinking that, though he'd been dealt a life of hard knocks, he was the type of man I knew I wasn't but wished to become.

Right now though…right now I wish I could be that man: the one who can laugh in the face of adversity and hold his head up high despite the trials and tribulations. Right now as I'm thinking these thoughts, seated dejectedly on the edge of my bed and fisting the court ordered papers in my hand, I can't help but feel like I'll never succeed. Like life will never just give me a goddamn break for once and let me be happy. I've done all I can to be a good father, a good cop and hopefully a good friend but does that really make me a good man? Would my ex really treat me like this, throw my world upside down once again if I were? Would she be so cruel? It's hard to say really because there is that old saying 'good guys finish last'. I can't help it and once again, like the thousand times I've done so since receiving the letters in the mail, I read them again. Words like 'full custody' and 'Grace Williams' and 'Las Vegas' filter through and I feel like vomiting up my meager dinner.

There's a sudden knock on my door but I ignore it, too busy studying the print again on the legal sized pages. It's just now that I notice my hands are trembling as I run a shaking hand over my mouth. I faintly hear the sound of a key in the lock, the rusty hinges squealing as the door is opened then closed back up. The soft padding of shoes makes its way over before I catch a glimpse of Steve's favorite pair of combat boots in my peripherals. I know it makes me a bad host but I can't acknowledge him, can't tear my eyes away from the papers long enough to give him a welcoming glance. I just don't have that kind of strength.

I sense him sit in the rickety old red chair next to the night stand. My current apartment came furnished but that's not saying much. He fidgets, and I can feel his eyes on me. Still I read.

"This place sucks."

Though my eyes can't move away, my tongue never fails me. "Your astute powers of observation once again astound me."

"You weren't answering your phone. I was worried." The real question remains unsaid.

"I had nothing to say." The real answer remains ungiven.

There are a couple moments of absolute silence that Steve respectfully decides not to fill. My strength of character must be waning if he can read me so well. I chalk it up to him being a good friend and I suddenly feel terrible for him. I wonder if I'm making him feel awkward? Regardless, he remains sitting as I re-read the pages yet again. Finally I can't help myself I've just had enough.

"What makes a good man?"

"What?" Steve seems confused by the question and I can't blame him. The words suddenly become blurry on the pages and it's enough to break the hold they've had over my eyes. I look at him, defeated.

"What makes a good man?" I repeat dejectedly, "And why do good guys always have to finish last, trying to scrounge up a life from the trampled fragments?"

Steve's face morphs into a look I have yet to see or categorize. He almost looks resigned as he leans back, clasps his hands over his stomach and averts his eyes to the stained carpet. He remains like that for a moment before he speaks. "I think what makes a good man is up to interpretation, depending on how your views are shaped and the kind of person you are. And what kind of person you are is formed from a series of remarkable circumstances."

"Oh?" I must have had a tone because he gives me a face.

"Would you let me finish? Anyway, yeah. Look at me for example. If my mother hadn't died in that car bomb, I don't know if I would have ever joined the Navy. My dad was a cop and I knew when I was a kid that I wanted to be just like him. He was my idol, the man I practically worshiped and I'm sure it was the same for you growing up. That bomb changed my life forever and shaped me into the person I am today. Did it make me a good man? I don't know because that's not really up for me to decide."

I just nod, thinking about my own parents back in New Jersey and what lengths they went to in order for me to have the childhood I did. I could never imagine the pain Steve must have gone through losing both parents.

"And again, if I had never joined the Navy, I would have never made an enemy of the Hesse brothers and my father would probably still be alive today. I would have never come back to Hawaii for his funeral and the task force probably wouldn't exist. You and I? We'd never know each other but, for what it's worth, I'm glad we do."

"Oh?" It's rare that my vocabulary is stunted so badly but Steve and the papers still clutched in my hands has me at an emotional breaking point. Words need not apply.

"Life has handed you a shitty deal buddy and, judging by the way you were burning holes through those papers you have, you've just been dealt another one. But it's through those trials and tribulations that have shaped you into the man you are."

"Rachael…" I swallow down the nausea, "she's fighting for full custody of Grace. She wants to move to Las Vegas and take my baby from me again. I don't…I don't know if I can go through this again. Financially I know I can't. I can't afford a proper apartment let alone another huge move back to the mainland." I can feel my eyes begin to water and I swipe at them irritably, embarrassed to be showing such emotion in front of Steve. "What kind of man does that make me?"

"One that's backed into a corner but I know you'll come out swinging. You always do." Steve doesn't seem fazed by the misty eyes or the show of weakness. He simply leans forward and gives me a pointed look. "You're one of the toughest guys I know and the kind of man I wish I could be."

I'm shocked into silence, another rarity for me. He doesn't give me a moment to talk anyway, barreling on. "You're so damn passionate about everything you do. Me? I do what I have to in order to get the mission completed. I'll be the first to admit that my tactics can be a bit extreme but that's who I am. You put your heart and soul into the job, into every detail of your life and I just don't have that kind of patience. Seeing you and Grace together makes me wish I had a father that looked at me the way you do her, always making her feel like she's the only kid in the world, like a superstar. You're an amazing dad and if I ever have kids I want to be like you, even half the father you are. You want to know how my life has shaped my views, what I believe a good man, no, a _great_ man, is? It's a man who can make his daughter smile just by walking into the damn room. It's a man who puts his life on the line not because he has to but because he wants to in order to make the world a little safer. It's a man who can manage to put up with my shit and not shoot me."

I huff a laugh as Steve cracks a grin and stands. He walks over, takes the hated papers out of my hands and sets them on the stand before turning back to me. He claps a hand down on my shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze of reassurance as he gives me a serious look. "Whatever happens with this hearing will happen but I know you'll fight as hard as I've ever seen you. It'll be alright Danno and you want to know why? Because _you_ are a good man."

And as he turns without another word, silently marching out of the apartment as though he never were, I cant help but believe him.

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I haven't written in first person for a while so I hope they didn't come out a bit out of character. Hope you like it and I'll be hopefully posting the before mentioned sequel soon!

Until next time!

Crystal Marionette


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